Sometimes, as I'm lying on the cold ground, I close my eyes, and I could see a million stars around me. A clinquant star, which I could recognize when your familiarity surrounds me. Everytime I look at the sky, it seems like everyday, it is brumous. Grey skies, and cold days, brings your scent back to life. Brings your scent back as if you were here beside me. And at night, there are beautiful stars in the sky, but I always feel like there is something missing. The zemblanity gives me the urge to find or to know that missing discovery. But sometimes I feel like I'd rather not know. The anonymous feeling and unremarkable thing inside me, gives me a huge confusion of how trickery the world is. If oneirataxia is the right term to call it, then I guess I'm having a hard time to distinguish what is reality from my own fantasy. I don't know if you're still here beside me, or if I'm just hallucinating. This hiraeth breaks me into pieces, making me realize that you were my home that I could never return to. I'm homesick and I want to feel the warmth inside your arms again. But I guess things won't go back to what it was before. If I'm gone, would you be okay? I'm very scared of this situation. Going back to the days when you made a promise of not leaving me, I could still recall that ineffable feeling of euphoria. And when I'm with you, everything is insouciant. The epiphany gave me an excitement to commit myself to you for a lifetime. The redamancy grew inside me. Because I thought you were in love. But then, you were just in limerence. Metanoia. You changed your mind, you changed everything. What we had was like an ephemeral, and a borrowed time from fate, which just lasted for a very short time. Those broken promises, made me want to immure myself from everything. Eversince, I lost myself and forgot how to be genuine. I'm a fool and an eccedentesiast. I'm not fine at all. I'm alone and nothing's left with me but silence, and the realization that everyone's living their lives while I'm still here, stuck in the past, hoping you'll come back to me. I can't go back to the way I used to be. I guess being on the state of seclusion and isolation is way much better than being surrounded and called by those memories that can't be repeated. Is this how it would end? If not, please come run over to me. And again, at night, as the cold wind touches my face like your cold hands do, I close my eyes for a very short moment, and feel those tears slowly stream down my cheeks as I fake a smile. Even though it's dark, I could still see those colors produced by rubbing my eyes as I try to get rid of those tears. Phosphenes and stars at the sky, makes me feel like I'm looking into your galaxy-looking eyes. Remember what you told me before while we were in the middle of the phone call? We may not be looking at the same star, but atleast we are under the same sky. And nothing hurts more than the thought of you, looking at the stars with another woman you'd spend a lifetime.
